Flow of Change
by Lady Casper-san
Summary: Fluff Drabble. Entry for a challenge on Leap Day. Sango finds only sadness on a special day. What will the Monk do to cheer her up? Fluff,Sap


**Flow of Change**

This was written for a challenge by Forth on LJ. It had to stand for a unique day in the event of Leap Year. I wrote about Sango's day.

There is no smut, just fluff. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

Rated: T (for violence mentioned)

* * *

Sango stared into the dark blue water of the lake, her heart wrenching with sadness. It had been almost two seasons away from her village and she was beginning to feel homesick. The smell of the usual stew brewing with the mixture of wood being chopped by the men for weapons used to be so homey to her. Now all she felt was emptiness from the fresh air that floated about Kaede's village. Though she loved the old miko, it just wasn't the same. It wasn't her family smiling at her when she ventured back from exterminating.

The proud smile of her father as he patted her back like one of the men, showing her she was equal.

Tears started to well up in her eyes and she stubbornly wiped at them with the backs of her hands. She hadn't noticed that they were shaking when someone called out to her.

"Sango, it's time for dinner." Miroku called, his charming voice warming her a little.

She gave a short nod, not turning toward him while the tears continued their tirade. She would let them have their way and then be done with it.

There was no point in crying over something that could not be fixed, anyway.

Apparently, she didn't do a fine job of concealing the tears for a hand touched her shoulder startling her as she turned to find worried violet eyes watching her. "Sango, what is it?"

That's all that was needed to release the violent sobs that wracked her form. One moment she'd been alright but that simple question seemed to be her undoing and she couldn't stop herself as her eyes shut tight, her breath becoming short and choppy. Miroku pulled her into his arms, allowing the wetness of her tears to soak into his robes as he gently stroked her hair, cooing to her that it was alright.

Eventually she calmed, the water works ceasing as they receded to the monk's calm, smooth voice that melted her heart. She leaned in closer, not wanting to give up that warmth.

"Do you wish to speak about it?" He asked, his fingers smoothing the black silk hair away from her face.

She shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm simply homesick."

He didn't really believe that was all that could cause a strong woman like Sango to cry, though he simply kept that to himself and nodded.

There was a pregnant silence that befell them as she absorbed the man's closeness. Already she felt herself feel better, though the bitterness of what today was didn't fade.

"The reason…" She started, eyes falling to her hands as they busily fussed with the hem of her clothing. "Today is my birthday."

Miroku's eyes widened. "Why would you cry over such a wonderful day?"

She shook her head and continued. "There's more to it. It's the anniversary of my village being killed."

There was a loss of words from the usually charismatic monk as he focused on her.

"I see."

He went silent, his arms gently pulling her against his chest as he kissed both her lips and cheek. "Sango…"

Immediately she could feel the well of sorrow pull at her, demanding that it be paid in tears as her eyes squeezed tight. "I'm alright."

He pulled her chin up suddenly, gifting her with a searing kiss that had her gasping for air. "Do not think of it as the anniversary of their deaths. Yes, they died. But you took a vow that day to avenge their deaths, did you not?"

She nodded. "I did. I wasn't there to save them but I surely would not allow disgrace to mare their names."

Miroku smiled softly, an angelic softness that had always gave her a sense of serenity. "Then they are not in vein. You're a strong human being with a soul so big that it could swallow up any darkness in the world. A fighter that will avenge the death of her comrades in their honor Sango, you are a gift from the heavens to this world." He pulled her so close; she could feel his breath against her cheek, warming her to the bone. "To me."

She could feel the calloused fingertips brushing lightly at the back of her neck as he always did whenever she became upset.

Quietly they sat, watching as the ripples of water flowed over one another in a manner that represented the way the couple flowed over one another's emotions. When one started to fade, a second ripple would flow about it, rejuvenating its strength and allowing it to finish its way home back to the calm depth of the lake.

"Sango?"

"Yes?"

"Happy birthday."


End file.
